


Close Ties

by gaygreekgladiator (ama)



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, M/M, Third Watch AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/gaygreekgladiator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barca is an EMT; Pietros is a pediatrician. It's a match made in a six-car pileup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Ties

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write a Third Watch AU for a while, and a little Barca/Pietros fest on tumblr provided the opportunity! Gannicus, Saxa, Donar, Lugo, and Agron are firefighters; Crixus, Varro, and Duro are uniformed police officers (Castus, Oenomaus, Aurelia, and Spartacus are higher-up in the department); Auctus and Barca are EMTs, with Naevia working in the same hospital. Nasir, Mira, and Melitta work at the DA's office. Not everyone appears in this fic, but who knows, maybe it'll expand at some point.

The radio crackled to life with the words "all units," and Barca muttered "Fuck," under his breath. Auctus hopped into the driver's side of the ambulance immediately, and before anyone can blink they were off speeding out of Camelot--the corner of King and Arthur Streets, home to a firehouse, a police department, and a hospital all within a block of each other. The radio offered more detail, and Barca continued to swear under his breath. A six-car pileup on a pedestrian-friendly street, including a fucking school bus.

"All in a fuckin' day's work," Auctus yawned.

"Wake the fuck up, man, or it's going to be a long-ass day."

By the time they arrived at the scene, both men were grim. All the Knights of Camelot were here, from all departments. Agron, Saxa, and Gannicus were freeing people from their cars, while Crixus, Duro, and Varro were busy setting up perimeters and moving idiotic pedestrians who stood around with their mouths open. Barca rolled his eyes as Auctus screeched to a halt, and they jumped out.

"Damn it," Barca hissed, looking around at the wounded people. "This is too much."

"Backup's on the way," Auctus pointed out.

"Not good enough. We need to get people back to the hospital, but there are too many people here to leave--we need someone to..."

Suddenly his eyes fell on what looked like the only non-idiotic pedestrian. He was standing at a respectful distance, with a worried look on his face as he watched Mira help the students out of the school bus, which was flipped on its side. He was a lanky man with an afro and a serious expression, wearing scrubs decorated with teddy bears. Perfect.

"Hey, you!" Barca shouted, walking towards him as Auctus fetched a stretcher for the more seriously wounded. "Scrubs!"

The man looked over, confused.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Come here, we need more hands."

"What--no, no I can't--"

"We've got people hemorraging out here, and  _they_  need to get to the hospital.  _You_  can apply butterflies and prevent people with broken bones from fucking them up more, and check for concussion symptoms."

He ducked under the police tape and grabbed the man's arm; he didn't pull away as Barca tried to lead him back under, although he didn't take it quietly, either.

"I'm a pediatrician!" he protested.

"You went to med school!"

"Barca, help me," Auctus snapped, and Barca immediately went to help Auctus strap in a victim with two completely smashed legs, a head wound, and blood bubbling unpleasantly from his mouth. Scrubs shut up instantly as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked, his lips barely moving. Barca threw a few pairs of gloves at him.

"The cops and firefighters all have first aid kits. There should be more EMTs here soon; help them, take care of the people who can't be our priorities, don't freak out."

"Don't freak out, got it."

Barca grinned at him, and slammed the ambulance door in his face.

\---

Hours later, Barca finally found an opportunity to breathe. His head was aching from keeping his hair in a bun the whole time; he tugged it out, grabbed a coffee, and wandered around the hospital for a moment, reveling in the feeling of hands that were freshly-washed and not even a little bit bloody.

He was walking through the hallway when he saw Scrubs, and he slowed down. The man looked drawn and weary, and Barca felt bad. He looked down at his coffee regretfully, and moved to sit next to the man in the waiting room.

"Coffee?" he offered. Scrubs looked at him, and then the cup, and shook his head.

"Thanks, but no."

"Listen, I'm... sorry for putting you in that position. It was unprofessional of me. But you did a good job, I heard."

"Bus crashes are scarier than shots, but I'm good with kids," he said lowly, with a little laugh. He rubbed his face tiredly. "That's why I'm here. One of my kids--poor Sophie Velacruz--broke her jaw against a bus seat."

He looked near tears, though Barca couldn't tell if it was sadness or stress. This kind of job wasn't for everyone. He saw it as the best six-car pileup he had ever worked--only two onsite fatalities and one offsite--while other people saw it as a horror movie. He patted the man's shoulder awkwardly.

"She'll be fine. Trust me, I know the doctors here. They'll have her cracking walnuts in no time."

Scrubs gave a watery laugh and smiled up at him.

"Thanks. That's good. I feel bad. Two days ago I told her she has asthma and obviously this is worse, but..."

"She appreciates that you were there. So did all those kids, and all the other people you helped. So am I."

"Thank you," the man said quietly. "I am... really impressed. By what you do, every day."

Suddenly Barca realized that his hand was still on the man's shoulder. In fact, it had kind of awkwardly migrated from back to top, and rested uncomfortably close to his neck. He thought about moving it, but in the end his fingers only fluttered slightly, and Scrubs looked away, a pleased kind of smile on his face.

Barca opened his mouth to say something--probably to request a number--when Auctus barreled into the waiting room.

"Jackass! Where the  _hell_  have you been? Break is over, let's go!"

"Fuck, I have to go--sorry, and thanks again!" he called as he was yanked away.

\---

"That guy was cute," Auctus said at the end of their shift, yawning. "Did you get a number?"

"No, thanks to some fucking idiot who interrupted us," Barca growled.

Auctus shrugged.

"Heart attacks wait for no man. But this is where the magic of Facebook, Google, and the good old fashioned white pages comes in." Auctus pulled out his iPhone, swiped it a few times, and looked up expectantly. "What's his name?"

... Fuck.

\---

Two days later was the annual Camelot Picnic and Softball Game. Barca showed up with potato salad, his high school bat and mitt, and a grumpy attitude that immediately evaporated when he spotted Crixus at the table.

"Crixus!" he called.

"Hey man," Crixus said distractedly. "Have you seen my partner? Its police first shift versus firemen first shift in half an hour and he's our best third baseman."

"No. Best guess, he's fucking my partner, hopefully not in your squad car. You don't want to know how I know that."

"Ugh," Crixus said, pulling a face.

"Aw, too much gay sex for you?" Agron said with a grin, suddenly appearing and dropping an arm around Crixus's shoulders. He liked playing up their height difference; it was one of the things Crixus hated about him so much, which was why they were friends.

"Dude, your brother is, like, 10."

"My brother? Oh, ew! Ew, why does Duro have a sex life?"

Barca smirked at him.

"As much as I would love to continue having this conversation, we have totally missed my point. Crixus, you have the names of everybody who was involved in that pileup the other day, right? Including that hot pediatrician?"

"Who, Pietros?" Crixus said, craning his neck. "There they are!" He waved at Auctus and Duro, who were approaching them looking thoroughly too pleased with themselves. Meanwhile, Barca stared at him.

"You  _know_  him?"

"Oh, dude, I've known him like forever. He went to med school with Naevia."

Barca pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Crixus, I have been single for a depressingly long amount of time, and now you're telling me that there is a young, attractive man in your wife's close circle of friends that you have not been setting me up with for years? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Maybe it's because you're a douchebag," Auctus suggested cheerfully as he and Duro joined the circle, standing two inches apart. Agron glared at them suspiciously.

"Look, man, I know a lot of gay guys, okay? I can't set you up with all of them," Crixus shrugged.

"You don't have to set me up with all of them, I just want to acknowledge the fact that you set me up with one guy in all these years, and you chose Agron instead of--what's his name, Pietros?"

Barca and Agron had gone on two dates. It had been hell. The only good thing to come of it was that Barca had managed to hack off half of Agron's hair by the end of the second date, and he was now sporting a much more clean-cut look that would probably never catch on fire, and after that he had managed to actually begin a successful relationship with a young attorney at the DA's office, so. Barca took credit for that.

"Sorry."

"Luckily, we don't leave these kinds of decisions to you," a voice said from behind Barca. He turned to find Naevia waiting, her arms crossed and a slight smile on her face.

"Naevia, my savior. Tell me you can get me his number."

"I can do you one better. There aren't that many EMTs with gorgeous hair in the city--I put two and two together, and Pietros will be here in ten minutes."

Barca felt a grin spread across his face. He hugged Naevia tightly, and may have lifted her off her feet and spun her around a little bit. His happiness lasted all of about seven seconds, until Duro--fucking smartass--felt the need to say "Thank God for six-car pileups."

"Shut up, dumbass."

He pushed up his short sleeves to show off his arms, swept his hair into a ponytail, and waited.


End file.
